


(Not) A Fear of Thunderstorms

by SabineElectricHeart (TheLifeAndLiesOfFerns)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rain, Romance, Sleeping Together, Thunder and Lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:34:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29763858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLifeAndLiesOfFerns/pseuds/SabineElectricHeart
Summary: Dimitri has trouble sleeping when it rains. His wife tries to ease his difficulties.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Kudos: 43





	(Not) A Fear of Thunderstorms

It was a dark, stormy night, it was the first of the year in Garreg Mach. The wind was howling incessantly, banging against the tall windows of the Archbishop’s bedroom. In the distance, from beneath them, they could hear Manuela nursing miserably a hangover, from the celebrations early that evening.

Yet, the chambers were calm, and at least one of its inhabitants was sleeping very peacefully. Until, that is, somewhere nearby, thunder cracked loudly, and Byleth was jolted out of her peaceful inner concert when her husband’s body jerked violently, as if the discharge had fallen straight over his head.

She lifted her head, squinting to try to see Dimitri. He appeared to have gone still once again. The woman, then, settled back against the pillow, her head still tilted toward him, and her eyes closed peacefully.

The green-haired woman quite enjoyed the rain. Not much of a privilege of hers, as she supposed every landowner and every peasant in Fódlan did as well, as long as lightning did not strike down their cattle or burn their produce. Rain meant life and renewal, and so the religion she led considered it a gift of the Goddess.

They so rarely got such bountiful showers such as these in Garreg Mach that this torrential downpour, complete with wind and thunder, seemed almost like a gift. It reminds her, if very faintly, of a time when her and her father worked in Adrestia, before she begun to fight. That half-memory, that sensation when listening to tempests, was her only claim to childhood innocence.

She wiggled her shoulders, sinking comfortably into the mattress, while extending her hand to reach her husband’s next to her. _As long as we are together_ , she would think, _who would pay heed to the weather?_

There was another loud bang, and her eyes flew open when Dimitri jumped again. This time, she could see his silhouette as he flipped onto his back. His eyes were open.

Byleth reached over and touched his arm. "Dimitri?"

"Uh, yes?" He responded, voice wavering, but completely alert.

"Are you feeling well?" She questioned, leaning on her elbows.

"Yes." She heard him take in a deep breath, and then continue in a more firm tone. "Yes, of course. Why?"

His voice was entirely too casual. He was lying, Byleth knew.

"You just seemed a little jumpy."

"What? No."

"I see." Byleth hesitated. "Are you… Are you scared of thunderstorms, Dimitri?"

"Certainly not! A fear of thunderstorms is futile and illogical. We have nothing to fear. We are not out in an open field, and the room certainly will not flood overnight…" He trailed off and cleared his throat.

The Archbishop sat up straight, pulling him up with her while stroking his strong and large arm. "Talk to me."

The King sighed. "I am just not sleeping well tonight, I suppose."

Dimitri was brushing something off. Byleth leaned down and kissed his shoulder.

"Love.” She began, firm but loving. “You can tell me."

The blond man sighed. "It is stupid."

"No, it is not." His wife insisted.

With that declaration, she heard his quiet scoff. "You do not even know what it is."

"Yet, I can comfortably declare that it is not stupid.” Byleth countered with an entitled huff. “I love you, Dimitri. Your fears and anxieties will never be never stupid for me."

"I just… Uh, we heard so many alarming sounds during the war, and even before that. I suppose that, when I am asleep, or almost there, I hear the storm and my brain tells me we are in danger. So, I launch into survival mode for a split second, only to realize that I am here and everything is fine, but the adrenaline is already there."

"Oh." Her voice was soft. “How did you sleep before?”

He shrugged, dismissively. “Storms are rare in Fhirdiad, and I rarely slept through the night anyways before we were wed.”

The Archbishop cleared her husband’s forehead of thick locks of hair and deposited a sweet kiss on the warm skin. "Anything I can do?"

"Eh, no." He said. "Just an unfortunate side effect of… Of being _me_ , I am to say."

Byleth scooted closer, sliding a hand to his chest. "Would you care for some wool?"

"Wool?" He asked, incredulous

The woman nodded. "Yes. Jeralt snored, and so I am used to carrying some wool plugs to put on my ears. They buffer some of the noise."

Dimitri shifted his weight. "I do not know whether that would help."

"We ought to try it, either way."

Byleth eased out of the bed and shivered. It was not overly chilly in the chambers, but she was only in a loose satin shirt, the fireplace was unlit and coming out from under the covers and losing their combined body heat, the temperature change was noticeable.

The Archbishop instinctively crossed one of her arms over her chest, then rolled her eyes at herself. It is not as if anyone was here other than the guy who had already seen them. Locating her desk by the door, she found the wool contraptions in one of the drawers and returned to the bed, feeling for Dimitri's hand and then pressing the ear plugs into his palm.

"They should lessen the sound, in any case.” She said, with an even face. “I will be right here next to you."

The man scoffed proudly. "I am not scared of storms, Byleth."

"You have made it abundantly clear, honey." She said. "I just mean I sleep better when you are close. So, I will hold you and maybe you will relax enough that the noises will not make your mind think you are deployed into a warzone."

"Hmmm." His other hand crossed over his body and squeezed hers. "Sylvain does always say that a thunderstorm is almost peaceful when you are cuddled up with someone you love. I always thought he was just being dramatic."

"I believe he is right about that." Byleth said softly. "I would say that it is because things may be raging outside, but everything inside is the same."

"Maybe. I suppose that makes sense.” The man wistfully agrees. “It is like we are perpetually in the eye of a hurricane. Around us is disaster, and it could come upon us at any moment, but at least for just a moment everything seems fine."

"Not… Not quite what I meant, but sure." Byleth lightly tapped his temple. "Ear plugs, Your Majesty."

Dimitri put them in, scooting slightly more toward the centre of the bed. Byleth laid her head on his chest, scooting closer as his arm wrapped around her lower back until his hand rested on her hip. Her hand absentmindedly rubbed his chest through his thin undershirt.

"I love you." She murmured, then lifted her head.

"Sorry." She said with a little laugh, in a normal tone. "Ear plugs. I forgot. I told you I love you."

"I know." He spoke. "I could feel the vibration from your throat on my chest."

"You can tell what I am saying from that? Come on, Dimitri, do not be a bragger if you cannot provide later." She said with another chuckle.

"No, I do not." The man shook his head in a negative. "But I know how you usually say it when we are like this, and I know how long it takes you to say it, and I could faintly hear your tone. So, I knew what you said."

Byleth leaned down and brushed her lips against his, then snuggled back down against him.

"Good night, Dimitri." She said, again in her normal voice.

"Good night, Love." He responded and fell into a shallow sleep.

Byleth closed her eyes, breathing him in, feeling his fingers affectionately caress her hip.


End file.
